Boys Will Be Boys
by Erianthings
Summary: Marshall and Gumball don't get along. Some could say they even hate each other, with such polar opposites and all. Rated T for some language and future lovin'.


Gumball and Marshall don't get along; some would even say they hated each other. Such polar differences and constant fighting, the people around them could never catch a break. They would tear deep into verbal insults, the furthest Marshall has cut was when he mentioned Gumball's mother. Things didn't go so good after that, and some blood was even spilled.

Gumball is just like any other boy, to be honest. He can punch and bleed and hate, even though he hides it behind the bright scarlet threads. Marshall knows this, but he doesn't see it too often. That day when the candy prince punched him directly in the jaw was a day he'd never forget. When the overdramatic candy based teen had stormed out, Marshall was left with a sore jaw and many bystanders staring at him in awe, though that awe eventually became anger. He got the message, quickly floating away and back home to process what he had just seen.

He had punched him. The sweet candy prince had delivered the info that he wasn't entirely made of sugar, and, that hurt. A lot. Marshall hadn't even expected his knuckles to be so hard, especially in such a short notice impact. He nudged the side of his chin, where Gumball had contacted his skin; he left a pretty nasty bruise.

_Son of a bitch._

Marshall cursed under his breath as he inspected his wound. He knew what this meant, Gumball would then proceed to rub it in his face about how strong he was, or how he physically won.

_He wasn't going to win that easily._

The next time he'd see that sorry excuse for royalty draped in that stuffy STUPID looking suit he'd punch him so hard it'd effect his grandchildren, no, his great grandchildren. Marshall's thoughts grew louder with anger and frustration; he tore open the door to his refrigerator and slapped an ice pack onto his wound, causing him to grimace lightly. He decided it might be better to take his anger out on some monsters rather than storming around his home and applying ice packs to himself carelessly.

Tossing the ice pack aside, he left into the night with a huff.

Gumball on the other hand, was not proud of himself, or at least not like Marshall had expected.

After their fight he had abscond to his bed chamber, grumbling slightly less offensive words and sitting down at his desk to also process what he had just done. He _hit _him. This was news; he had never punched anyone in his entire 18 year old life, even though Marshall deserved it for bringing up the heavy subject of his parents. Still, it was so ungentlemanly. He felt regret and shame, though while he hated the other male sometimes there needed to be a bigger person.

Gumball summoned his large carrier bird, writing a very formal note along with it stating his apologizes.

Marshall received it the next morning, finding it placed gently on his porch. The night before he had feasted on the red of the innocent and was in the mood for a nap, though that rarely happened with him. You really shouldn't mess with vampires when they rest.

He opened the note when after he had entered his home and nabbed a few strawberries. His eyes growing wide when he saw it was from Gumball. _Here we go._

_Marshall Lee, _

_I sincerely apologize for my actions yesterday._

Marshall stopped there. 1. Did he really have to call him by his full name? 2. He was _sorry? _He shook his head. "You are such a dork," He muttered to himself, scanning through the rest of the letter absentmindedly, until he saw an invitation.

_In order to prove my regret, perhaps you wouldn't mind visiting?_

Glob. This was _rich. _Or rather, would be. Marshall instantly created a devious plan, it was obvious that Gumball was being the pretty little boy he was, sorry that he simply hit him. It wasn't really such a big deal, but that didn't mean he couldn't make it one. Marshall drained the rest of the red from his strawberry and headed towards his messy room, digging through a few bins for…

Here it is. Black face paint. Why did he have this again? He could barely remember, but that didn't matter. He was aware Gumball didn't know the first thing about vampires, or him, so he wouldn't know that he healed extremely fast. Though his bruise had left, he began to decorate the nonexistent wound with face paint, finding a few other bottles of blue and purple to dress it accordingly. He could barely wait to pull this prank, and then maybe Gumball wouldn't throw his fists places without realizing who he was dealing with.

Checking the note once more, Marshall found that he was invited to the Candy Kingdom at 5 for dinner. Jeez, Gumbutt must have been really sorry. Well soon he'd be even sorrier. Marshall laughed, checking his clock to see it was nearly noon. Good, he'd have time for his nap.

Gumball was nervous, a nervous _wreck. _

_Would he be angry still? Of course he would, you impacted his face with your fist!_

He thought about this as he decorated lightly, Gumball didn't want Marshall to be angry, while at the same time he did. Maybe he was overreacting? Maybe… No, if he didn't act as the bigger person Marshall would have probably got his revenge, and that wouldn't have been gleeful at all. It was when the clock hit 5 when Gumball began to jitter a little, contemplating whether Marshall would even show up.

But he did.

The Vampire King showed up fashionably late, 5:15, his hands tucked in his jeans. He was like a dark shadow compared to the rest of the kingdom. Gumball approached him shyly, noticing he was wearing a dark green turtle neck with his chin covered by the neck part. When he saw Gumball come to greet him, his eyebrows furrowed angrily, though instead of punching him immediately like he had been expecting, Marshall simply ceased floating and glared at him.

"Hello Marshall," Gumball said quietly, holding out a hand to shake. Marshall rolled his eyes, obviously irritated by the prince.

Gumball swallowed nervously, retreating his hand and looking away. A nervous knot of regret and awkwardness swelled up inside him, he couldn't help but feel shameful. Had he really hurt him that badly? He was pulled out of his thoughts when Marshall turned to the dining room. Butlers and servants filled the room, serving food to the table. Gumball followed his guest; taking a peek at his expression, he could almost see a grin on his lips.

Marshall's plan would be put into action. He unzipped his jacket, allowing a candy person to take it to a rack. With his fake bruise now in sight, many of the servants around began to gasp and whisper to each other. He smirked, seeming as if simply showing off his wound.

When Gumball caught a glimpse of this, he gasped, covering his mouth.

"Did I….. Do that?"

Marshall gave him a smug grin, then a fake frown. He had to seem as if he was upset, or obviously Gumball wouldn't feel as much remorse.

"Yep," Marshall scoffed lightly. "Real mature of you, might I add."

Gumball looked terrified, swallowing again. Marshall almost felt a bit sorry; I mean Gumball didn't really deserve this for just punching him… He shook it off quickly, flipping his bangs to the side and taking a seat at the head of a very large table centered in a bright pink dining room.

"S-Sorry," Gumball finally added when he had sat down next to Marshall.

"Whatever." Marshall scoffed again, almost unintentionally. PG was busy looking down at the table cloth, his shoulders hunched over slightly in shame. Ugh, this guy was so pitiable. Marshall wouldn't even have a chance if he had been the puncher in this situation. He ran his fingers through his hair and attempted to silently brush some of the paint away in order to make it look less abominable. "What are we eating?" He mumbled a little.

"Huh?" The prince looked up suddenly, his violet eyes sparkled a little as if he had just gotten some hope.

"What are we eating?" He repeated with no enthusiasm.

"Oh, um, I thought that preparing a nice dinner suitable to your tastes would be a good idea. We're having lobster."

"Hm." Marshall didn't want to seem too excited; despite the fact he loved lobster. This prank had turned down a dark route, but there was still time to make it at least a little funny. "You made it yourself?"

"Indeed!" Gumball said cheerfully.

_Ugh can't you just say yes…_

Marshall found himself irritated by the boy's happy personality. Probably because he ruined his prank or maybe it was just their polar opposites acting up. When one would laugh, the other would frown. One would frown, the other would laugh. It was just nature.

He acknowledged his response with a nod, and then transferred his eyes to the servants rushing around the room. The whole dinner was awfully awkward and silent, Marshall could tell Gumball was stressing out pretty much to the max and as amusing as it was, he didn't like it as much as he expected he would. Gumball's eyes would dart to look at the bruise he thought he caused, and huffed a bit. This went on the whole dinner and it drove Marshall crazy.

After they finished what seemed like years of eating and huffing and candy people staring them down, Gumball got up and took Marshall's wrist in his hand.

"Uh…?" Marshall raised an eyebrow.

"I think I could maybe help your bruise." He explained as he led him out of the dining room and towards a bathroom.

_No. Crap. Dear glob…._

Marshall began to internally flip out. Gumball would see it was just face paint and probably punch him again, and Marshall deserved it for attempting such a cruel prank. They turned into the bathroom and Gumball sat him down on a small chair. Dang, this bathroom was _huge. _It had nearly three tubs, a shower, and a single toilet in the middle. He crossed his arms and really wished he had his turtle neck right now.

Gumball wet the cloth, a worried look plastered onto his face. Marshall's stomach churned uneasily when Gumball bent down beside him to clean the bruise.

_No no no no no, think fast globdammit don't let him see._

Before he could act the prince had the wet cloth against his wound and was washing some off. Suddenly he grinned, rolling his eyes. Marshall examined his expression, probably more confused than he had been in a long time. Gumball put the sponge aside and gave Marshall a smirk.

Gumball had known. He figured out after they sat at the table, when his bruise had mysteriously shrunken. Though the whole thing was pretty easy to figure out, it didn't even look like a real bruise. Marshall had caught on after a few moments and puffed out his cheeks.

"Wow Gumball, ya sure you're made of sugar?"

"Yep, one-hundred percent."

"So, I was basically pranked, when I thought I was pranking."

"How could you possibly believe anyone would think that was a bruise? Do you even know what one looks like?"

"I haven't exactly had many. Besides, your weak punch wouldn't have inflected anything anyways."

Gumball rolled his eyes, still smirking. And with him smirking, Marshall frowned. Nature. Gumball could tell his guest was most displeased, and probably hated him a lot right now. He was honestly a still pretty guilty for hitting him in the first place. Gumball's smirk turned into a sheepish grin and he slumped his shoulders lightly.

"So…." He said quietly, somewhat intimidated by the vampire sitting next to him.

He looked up to him, eyebrow raised. "So, what?"

"Is that all? I mean, are we even again?"

"I guess so." Marshall didn't mean to seem so insufferably distant; he just didn't know what to say. One day the guy punched him, then he pranked him in his own game, he had misunderstood Gumball completely. And on top of that all, probably seemed like a dork for falling victim to both. "Hey, what gave you the guts to hit me yesterday?"

Gumball looked down and flattened his shirt, his cheek puffed out. "I don't have a clue," The prince admitted, looking back up to see Marshall's bright red eyes staring down at him. "Maybe I just needed to stand up for myself."

Marshall was surprised, deeply surprised. No one ever had the guts to hit him and then be so honest about it, he was considered the King of creepy, or danger, or even killing. It was sort of _refreshing _to have someone stand up to him, especially when he deserved it.

"Cool."

"…Cool?"

"Yes, cool."

"How is that cool?" Gumball scrunched up his nose. "I punched your face, and that's cool?"

"Yep. You pretty much proved your manliness."

Gumball huffed. "That's not even a thing!"

Nature balanced itself out again, Gumball's smirk faded and Marshall began to smile. It wasn't a devious smile, or even an annoying one, just one that proved he was having a good time. It was sincere. Though something out of nature happened, when Marshall sparked their conversation they both found themselves smiling, and even laughing when Marshall would crack a few jokes. The weirdest part was: Marshall enjoyed it. He enjoyed Gumball's laugh, the way he crossed his legs and flicked his hands around while he talked, and even his eyes glued to Marshall's. He wasn't used to having someone look into his eyes without flinching. It was…. fun.

**A/N: OTP feelings. Okay so just to clarify this takes place in the past before Fionna showed up. They've probably met like… maybe 4-5 weeks ago and don't know a lot about each other. This will be continued! And the chapters will get progressively longer. Hope you guys like it, reviews are great! :) **


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